


tiny pink shorts

by captainsourwolf



Series: Rhink Ficlets [7]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Rimming, Semi-Clothed Sex, link looks too good in those pink shorts, rhett is horny for it, those damn tiny pink shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 20:43:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21362419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: If Rhett knows anything about his best friend it’s that he likes to tease. Link is a big ole flirt, and he knows it; he uses that knowledge to drive Rhett crazy on most occasions. Whether it’s with a flash of his teeth when he’s biting his bottom lip or a quirk of his eyebrow or, if he’s feeling really frisky, a quick flick of his shirt to show off a strip of skin, it’s all to tease and drive Rhett to the edge.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Rhink Ficlets [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1492520
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55





	tiny pink shorts

**Author's Note:**

> this was just an excuse to write pure smut. i went on a trip down memory lane on their instagram account and that calendar photoshoot just...yeah.

If Rhett knows anything about his best friend it’s that he likes to tease. Link is a big ole flirt, and he _knows_ it; he uses that knowledge to drive Rhett crazy on most occasions. Whether it’s with a flash of his teeth when he’s biting his bottom lip or a quirk of his eyebrow or, if he’s feeling really frisky, a quick flick of his shirt to show off a strip of skin, it’s all to tease and drive Rhett to the edge. 

This photoshoot is one of those times. Stevie and Jenna conspired to get the men on the crew, including he and Link, to partake in a car photoshoot to post on Instagram. Rhett got a good laugh out of it, had every intention of playing along, but then Link walked out of the dressing room in those damn tiny pink shorts and flamingo button up. 

It isn’t the first time those shorts have been worn. But it is the first time Link has worn them with smooth legs and a shirt that’s bordering on too small. The shorts seem to have shrunk since the last time they were put to use. Every time Link takes a step down the hallway the fabric tightens around his thighs and his ass, and Rhett is done for before they even make it outside where the others are waiting. 

Mouth suddenly dry, Rhett stutters out an excuse to run back to the closet. Link watches him in confusion as he bolts back down the hallway and into the room, slamming the door closed behind him. He breathes heavily and leans on the door to catch his breath. This is ridiculous, he’s a grown man, shorts should not turn him on this much. But, _but_, those shorts look so good on Link, he can’t help the surge of arousal at seeing him in them. 

The last time Link wore those things they were a little bigger, but now they fit just right around his tiny waist and hips, stretch deliciously over his ass, and the color looks fantastic on his vacation tanned skin. Rhett can’t wait to peel them off later and get his mouth on what’s underneath, and he especially can’t wait to feel how smooth Link’s thighs are when he buries his face between them. 

Groaning, he pushes away from the door and shakes himself off. He’s rolling his shoulders when he sees his Damnyell get up sticking out of the nearest shelving unit. It’s perfect. It would be a good distraction away from Link and the easiest way to get away with being silent and nobody ask questions. He quickly goes to grab it, shoves it on his head, and walks out. 

*  
Rhett thought he would be okay playing it off as Damnyell and not himself. But the moment Link daintily crawls on top of the car’s hood his heart seizes in his chest and his breathing becomes erratic. Rhett is _not okay_. He watches through some of Damnyell’s hair that has fallen in his face; watches as Link makes his way across the hood, shorts pulling tight across his lower half. Rhett has to bite his lip to stop the moan from escaping while the crew is around. 

Link gets situated in a position that has his legs on display and he poses with that stupid parrot and a hand in the air. He makes a pouty face, tilts his head just so, and Rhett has to step back, away from the nearest crew members, and groan quietly. He can’t watch anymore.

*  
When the photoshoot is over Rhett finds Link in the dressing room. He’s lounging in his chair in front of the vanity, phone close to his face. He’s still dressed in that flamingo shirt and those damn shorts. The shirt is unbuttoned and loose around his torso, exposing his naked chest and stomach, and the shorts are bunched up around his thighs and crotch where he has his legs propped up on the edge of the counter. 

“Hey, man,” Link beams, not looking up from his phone. Rhett says nothing. “Need something?” His mouth quirks up in an all-knowing smirk. 

Rhett moves without realizing it. He takes two long strides across the room, snatches the phone out of Link’s hands and lays it carefully on the counter, then knocks his feet off the edge. Link gasps and nearly falls out of the swivel chair, but he catches himself on the arms. 

“Rhett, what the hell?” he grumps. His smirk is gone but Rhett can see a twinkle still there in his eyes. 

“Those damn tiny shorts, that’s _what the hell_, Link!” Rhett growls and drops to his knees in front of Link. Link watches with bright blue eyes, smirk coming back full force. “Teasing me with them, teasing me with those smooth legs, _god_, Link.” Link laughs and stretches out a leg, shoving Rhett in the chest with a foot.

“You like ‘em?” he asks, voice a sultry whisper. He wiggles his hips, causing the shorts to pull even tighter around his crotch. Rhett’s gaze is immediately drawn to the outline of his balls and cock trapped in the confines of the too small garment. 

Rhett grabs the foot still on his chest, hand big around Link’s ankle. The skin there is soft and hair free. “You know I do,” he murmurs as he runs his hand up Link’s leg, taking his time. Smooth over his calf, around his knee, over the gentle curve of his thigh, and not stopping till he can dip his fingers under the pink fabric and just _touch_; every point of contact sends an electric shock straight to his cock. He knew there would be nothing but clean skin; Link likes to trim and shave every once in awhile and Rhett likes it, too. 

The muscles under his hand start to twitch and jerk. Grinning, Rhett teases close to the bulge tenting the material then pulls his hand away. Link groans loudly and lifts his hips, hands gripping the arms of the chair tight enough to turn his knuckles white. If he can tease so can Rhett. 

Rhett gently sets Link’s foot down on the floor before rising up some on his knees. With both hands he caresses the tops of Link’s thighs, fingers light, and palms warm. He runs them over the hem of the shorts and back across the expanse before him, moaning at the softness of Link’s tanned legs. Hands gripping underneath, he jerks Link forward in the chair until his ass is barely hanging on the edge. 

“D’you know how much seein’ you in these shorts turns me on, Link?” Rhett asks, eyes flicking up to meet Link’s. His are hooded and burning behind his glasses as he watches Rhett. He drops a hand to his lap and has to dig the heel of his hand into his erection for some relief just from that expression on Link’s face. 

A foot lands in his lap, right over his hand, and presses down. Link laughs when Rhett moans and tilts forward, head resting on Link’s knee briefly at the light pressure on his aching dick. It’s there and then it is gone, Link settling his legs on either side of Rhett’s body, waiting. Shifting around, Rhett shoulders his way further between those thighs and kisses the soft skin there, right on the edge of the shorts. 

“You gonna fuck me in ‘em?” Link asks, voice low. Rhett glances up at him, at his parted lips and his flushed cheeks, and smiles, nods his head once in affirmation. “Fuck. I can’t wait,” he moans.

Rhett wastes no time planting his lips on Link’s crotch. He mouths at the fabric stretching over Link’s cock, gets it good and wet with his tongue, feels the outline of it. Then he moves a little further down, spit trailing behind and dampening the shorts, until he can do the same to Link’s balls. He takes his time and runs his tongue around each one trapped in shorts and underwear, soaking the fabric and leaving Link shaking and gasping. He’s incredibly hard in his jeans and has to pop the button and unzip them so he can have some relief. 

Rhett sits back and wipes the spit off his mouth and beard, grinning at the mess he made on Link’s shorts. It’s impossible to miss how hard Link is now and scrunched down the way he is shows it off even more. The pink is darker now after Rhett’s attention. Link scoots back in the chair, shoving at Rhett with a foot again until he gets the hint and stands. 

“Get up,” Rhett husks. Smirking, Link pushes himself out of the chair, right into Rhett’s space. His shirt flutters open and down one shoulder and he aligns himself with Rhett, chest to chest, crotch to crotch. 

“Want me to take ‘em off right now?” Link rises up on his toes and drags Rhett down into a filthy kiss with his hands tangled in curls, tilting his hips just so. 

Rhett jerks him back, _the tease_, and spins Link around so he’s facing the vanity. He uses his body to push him forward, belly right on the edge, and a hand between shoulder blades to shove him over the smooth surface. Link wiggles his hips against Rhett’s groin and Rhett grunts at the feeling of the rough fabric of the shorts rubbing against his own clothed cock. Hands on Link’s hips now, Rhett yanks him back far enough to get his hands around the waistband of the shorts. 

Huffing, Link falls face first onto the counter top, forehead already sweaty where it is resting on the vinyl. He clamps his hands onto the only available items surrounding him--a cup full of makeup brushes, a random hat someone left out--and waits. Rhett grips the shorts tighter, can’t help a slow roll of his hips against Link’s ass, letting him feel the bulge in his underwear, before tugging on the material and working them and underwear over a tiny waist and hips. He watches as Link’s ass appears, just as tanned as the rest of him from his days of naked swimming and napping. He’s so desperate for it he doesn’t tug the bottoms far, only to about mid-thigh, then leaves them there. 

Hastily Rhett drops to his knees. He rubs his hands from Link’s hips across his ass, thumbs digging into taut muscle as he goes, spreading him further and further apart. By the time he reaches his destination Link is panting above him and shifting his hips back, seeking more. Rhett huffs out a laugh, uses his thumbs to spread Link’s cheeks and expose his hole. With the shorts in the way it’s a snug fit, but Rhett manages. He dives forward and flattens his tongue against the fluttering ring of muscle.

“_Fuck_, shit, Rhett!” Link curses and his hips are rolling in earnest now as he tries to get _more_. Rhett licks around the rim then dips his tongue inside, pushing slow and teasing until Link is moaning and shoving his hips back. He keeps going, tongue hot and insistent, getting Link wet and loose. 

Link is babbling where he’s spread out on the countertop and his pelvis is thrusting in small movements while Rhett works him open with just his tongue. He holds Link by the hips to keep him steady so he can drive his tongue in and out, Link cursing with every shallow thrust. A moan works its way out of his throat when Rhett stops and stands on shaky legs. 

“Why’d you stop?” Link whines, hips rocking back. 

Laughing, Rhett searches in the drawer next to Link’s body for the lube they keep stashed in there. He plops it on Link’s back while he shuffles and shoves down his own pants and underwear enough to get his dick out. He sighs at the touch of his hand and grabs the bottle, jerks the top off with his teeth, and squirts some right onto the fingers wrapped around himself. 

“What’s takin’ so long?” Link asks, voice rough. He rolls his hips but can’t go very far with the shorts locking his legs in place and Rhett’s body pinning him. 

Smearing the lube around, Rhett sighs. He gets his cock good and slick, then uses what’s left to tease at Link’s hole. Link jerks in surprise but settles fast at the quick press of a finger inside. Rhett adds a second, not wanting to waste any time with Link already loose and pliant from just his tongue, and quickly but thoroughly works Link open some more. Link moans through it and grips the items in his hands tight though it’s not enough, it won’t ground him. 

After a few moments Rhett removes his fingers and wraps them around the base of his cock. He jerks himself a few times, can’t help it, he needs some kind of relief or this will be over before either of them want it to be. He lines himself up, and flattens his other hand on Link’s lower back, bunching the flamingo shirt, soothing and steady as he pushes just the head in. Link moans low as Rhett sinks his cock into him inch by slow inch. 

Rhett wants to go fast and rough, but he settles for slow and steady so Link can adjust. He keeps going, hand steady on Link’s back and Link shifting his hips back, taking Rhett in. Rhett has to watch so he drops his head, watches through hooded eyes as Link opens up for his cock so easily, clenching and releasing around him, sending his nerves into overdrive.

“God look at you,” Rhett moans. He bottoms out in one swift and final push, Link gasping into the countertop and hands struggling to find purchase. “_Shit_, Link, you open up so easy, always do, baby, I love it.” He isn’t positive that what he’s saying makes sense, but Link must understand because he chokes out a laugh and rolls his hips onto Rhett’s cock. 

It’s difficult to move too much with his bottoms stopping only mid-thigh and those damn pink shorts in the way, but Rhett manages to get a rhythm going. He thrusts shallowly and holds Link’s waist with both hands as he pulls back as far as possible, then thrusts again. Link shifts on the vanity and then he’s raising up on his elbows and looking over his shoulder at Rhett, urging him on with just a look. 

“I thought you liked these shorts,” Link mutters, taunting Rhett into a more bruising pace. “You don’t act like someone that likes them.” He grins and Rhett pinches his side, slips his hand around his waist all the way to his cock. He’s leaking all over his shorts and now Rhett’s hand and he moans loudly when Rhett touches him. 

Rhett sets up a faster pace, jerking Link’s cock in time with his thrusts, relentless as he shows the other man just how much he likes his shorts. He’s hot all over, sweat soaking through his shirt and he can see Link’s flamingo shirt is soaked as well and sticking to his back. Rhett groans at the sight and his fingers dig into Link’s hips hard enough to sting. He’s close, can feel it building in his spine and his balls, stealing all the air from his lungs as he fucks into Link harder and faster. 

Link cums first with a surprised shout that settles into a low stuttering moan. His cock twitches and jerks in Rhett’s fist and spills onto Rhett’s hand and the pink shorts. His hands are white knuckled on the edge of the counter as he presses his forehead into the surface, breathing labored, hips chasing his orgasm while Rhett continues his relentless thrusting. He finishes with a gasp, Rhett squeezing one last dribble out of him onto his fingers.   
Rhett follows not far behind. Link’s ass clenching around him on his own orgasm and after is enough to do it, and he cums loudly, stifling his moan into Link’s sweaty back. Hips flush against Link, Rhett stills as he releases hot and thick inside his best friend. He doesn’t move until he’s finished and sucking in air like it’s going out of style. 

“Fuck, Link,” Rhett mutters. He slips out, Link hissing at the oversensitivity, and hauls the other man into his arms, back to chest. Link goes willingly and sags into Rhett’s chest, both of them breathing heavy. Rhett yanks his underwear and shorts back up despite the mess they’ve both made, Link exerting minimal effort to help.

“So you really like those shorts, huh?” Link giggles. He rotates his hips slowly into Rhett’s spent dick, the pink fabric rough on his skin. Rhett jerks backs, huffing out a laugh. 

“Yep, but now they’re ruined,” he gestures down at the shorts. They _are_ ruined, with Link’s own drying cum and Rhett’s spit and sweat from both of them. Link just laughs, head tilting back onto Rhett’s shoulder. 

Link taps his arm that’s wrapped around his waist. 

“I can buy more.” He winks at Rhett in the mirror, spins around, and drags Rhett into a kiss. 

_Well_, now that he can get behind.


End file.
